


Back through the Gates

by eaten_by_bears



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Plug and Play, Rough Sex, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eaten_by_bears/pseuds/eaten_by_bears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the TF-Speedwriting community's 2012 Advent Calendar. Red Alert has had a hard time coming to trust Firestar again after his return to Cybertron. They have a bit of a breakthrough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back through the Gates

**Author's Note:**

> Contains hurt/comfort, sticky and plug'n'play, and rough, consensual interfacing.

“I need a minute. Just- just half a breem. I need a minute. I-”

“Of course.” Firestar moved off of Red Alert, giving him the space to stand if he wanted. He was shaking badly, his voice suddenly thin and fast. “It’s all right.”

He was pressed against the wall behind the berth, knees drawn up defensively, optics unblinking and feverishly bright.

She ached to touch him, but she knew better. Red’s defensive programming was impressive, to say the least. If it had kicked in strong enough that he was drawing away from her, touching him certainly wouldn’t make things better.

But he’d improved since returning to Cybertron. The battery of tests he’d administered, the demands for code words fresh to him and ancient to her had gone some way to reassure him that she wasn’t brainwashed, wasn’t a cruel Decepticon ploy, wasn’t a bomb. He came to her now, even without the protective bulk of Inferno to retreat to. His moments of panic were becoming shorter, on the whole.

He was starting to calm a little already. He’d let his knees down, and his optics had dimmed to their usual brightness. She offered a hand, reaching out to let him take it if he could.

He looked at it for a moment as if it were foreign, but slowly, he bent down to let her touch his helm.

She stroked him slowly, careful of his delicate sensor horns. He rewarded her by moving closer, and even laying his head in her lap. She hugged him to her, wrapping her arms protectively around the little white frame. It had taken time for her, as well. She had had a long time to mourn him and Inferno. There had been a time when she almost deleted the memory files entirely. But she didn’t. She’d kept them. And now that he was alive and home, she could keep him as well.

“Bad memories?” she asked.

“Yes.” His fans drew in the room’s cool air. “I apologize for any... for any discomfort.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She struggled to remember how he liked his horns touched. Little circles? She tried rubbing him at the base, and he pressed close against her, relaxing more. She smiled. Some things remained.

“It’s not a reflection on you. I know you wouldn’t betray me?” He was looking her in the optic now, as open as she’d seen him since he left on the Ark, painfully unsure.

“No,” she said, and pressed her lips to his, letting them linger on the smooth silver metal. “Not for anything-” She kissed him again. “Or anyone-” She let her lips move down to his neck, and he bared it for her, just like he’d used to. “Not in four million years.”

He nestled into her lap, licking at the crest of her hip, the plating nearest to his gentle mouth. She gave a low rev, and he curled around her, taking shelter in her arms and staying near to her softly rumbling engine.

He stilled for a moment, hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. There was a little click as the little panels at the side of his hood opened to reveal his connectors. He looked away from her, and his facial plating glowed with a faint color, but he left them open and vulnerable.

“Red?” She touched a hand to his cheek. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. He’d always been more reticent about cabling than spiking. As far as she knew, she and Inferno were the only two he’d ever trusted that far. Since his return, it simply hadn’t been mentioned. But he turned and kissed her hand, pressing his face into her palm.

“I need you, Firestar. Please.”

She’d been dying for him, of course. Glancing at his panels, sparking herself off alone or with Inferno, keeping a lid on the desire to throw him down and join with him, and now- She bent down to run her glossa along the thin metal edge of his port recess, and he arched under her with a soft little cry. She was open now too, crackling with energy, desperate to take her mate again, to feel his circuits under hers and share in his beautiful, guarded body. But she controlled herself. She took her output cable from its recess and gently plugged herself in. He stiffened in her arms.

“You okay there, buddy?” She bit her lip, forcing herself to ask, holding herself in check for her sensitive lover. Her voice was a rasp.

His body rocked as he adjusted to the flow of input, and he gave a wanton, throaty moan. She grinned. “That’s my boy.” She took his mouth again, letting him feel her desire, feel his lips and denta through her sensors, her overwhelming hunger as she traced the smooth plane of his hood.

Finally, he offered his own output cable from its recess, and she drove it home with a shaking hand, bucking as it clicked in and she could _feel_ him- the rapid fire of his senses, her own taste, his fear and love and pain as she touched him everywhere, reaching under him to stroke the arc of his back as she drew heavily on the feed of his sensations. “Sigma, Red. You don’t- you don’t know what you’re doing to me-” But he did, and she could feel his knowledge, taste him touching her, hear his scent on her plating, the bright explosions of color behind her optics as she joined with him again.

And when he begged for her spike, she didn’t know if it was impulses or words, but suddenly he was open under her, and she was sliding into him, feeling how hard and sweet he took every spark of love she offered and pouring out affection and reassurance as she babbled to him on the audible channel. “Good. Good, Red, scrap, you’re good. I’ve missed you. Missed you bad...” And she was petting his helm like a shiny cybercat, letting him in like he’d let her, baring her loneliness to him in its painful age, the tenderness of her care, the depth of her need for him. And he gave himself to her as she spiked him, giving more and more of himself over the line, offering himself to be devoured.

She gripped him tight, bit his neck, making him her own. For an astrosecond she felt like they were fused, welded together at mouth, spike and cables, joined at the plating where she crushed him to her body, joined in the white hot oblivion of overload.

He collapsed under her as they started to come down, went easily when she tucked him up to her shoulder to hold him. She was still panting, her sensor net still glittering with those sweet, sharp points of light.

He held to her, weakly, trusting her to keep him near. They stayed joined like that, free and at home in each others’ heads until they fell into exhausted sleep.


End file.
